


The Christening

by SailAweigh



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Comment Fic, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:52:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6987637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailAweigh/pseuds/SailAweigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Move-in day for Chris and Karl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Christening

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as comment fic over at [jim-and-bones](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/202577.html#comments) Semi-weekly Man-on-Man (NSFW) post. Must be a member of the community to see the very NSFW pics. Come join us. :)

"Whoa, whoa, don't put it there!"

Chris stopped dragging the mattress over to the corner, letting it lean against his stomach and thighs while he wiped the sweat out of his eyes with the back of one forearm. It didn't seem to help much, so he pulled up the hem of his t-shirt and used that instead, leaving a big wet spot on the bottom of the tee.

"What's wrong?"

Karl made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. "Christ, the property management company must not have done a very good walk-through of this place when the former tenant left. Look at the cobwebs in here." He pointed to a mass in the corner.

Chris looked at it and shrugged. "Par for the course around here. I'm tired. I want a shower and then I want a bed. As long as there's no livestock in that spider web, I don't care." He pushed the mattress a couple of more inches along the floor toward the corner and then gave it a push with one finger. It teetered on edge before falling slowly with a muffled thump against the tile floor. The breeze of its passing shook the spider web, but it clung tenaciously to the floorboards and wall. 

"Karl, just leave it. They eat mosquitoes, okay? Keeps me from getting bitten and breaking out in hives; I'm allergic to mosquito bites." Chris' voice trailed off as he left the room. Karl could hear him rummaging around in a box in the hallway. He came back in carrying a couple of towels and a set of sheets. After dropping the sheets off on the mattress, he continued on his way to start a shower running.

"I'm setting up a cleaning service, Pine. And an exterminator. I still think it's disgusting." Karl shook the sheet out, stretching it haphazardly from corner to corner. The damn thing kept trying to pop off one corner as soon as he got it over the opposite. And where the hell had Chris gotten these sheets anyway? The pale blue floral print just didn't seem to be the kid's style at all. Maybe some ex-girlfriend had bought them to match his eyes. With a last viscous tug on a corner, Karl straightened up with a groan. Sweat was dripping down his face and he was more than ready to join Chris in the shower and maybe even ready for bed, at that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Karl woke up slowly, noticing that the morning light was coming in through the window behind him where he lay on his right side and it wasn't exactly early. The pillows had fallen off the end of the bed at some point and Chris' head was cradled in the crook of his right arm. His other arm was wrapped over a slim waist, pulling Chris into his body for warmth in the night. He looked for the sheet and saw it hanging off the end of the mattress. Well, it wasn't like they'd needed it, after all.

As he lie there contemplating coffee and possibly some bacon and eggs sometime in the nebulous near future, Chris' free arm lifted up to pat him on the head.

"Hey." The hand stroked over his hair, ruffling it more than smoothing with the awkward angle.

"Morning, sunshine." Karl bent forward to lay a kiss on the back of the vulnerable neck before him.

"Yeah, it is." Chris wiggled a little, getting his right shoulder into a more comfortable position. "And I can feel that like all good henyard cocks, you have risen to the occasion." The muscular butt that was snugged into his groin ground backward into where Karl's morning wood had notched itself into the cleft of putatively spectacular ass cheeks.

Karl shifted his hips forward involuntarily, a low rumble emerging from his chest. "Do that again." Chris wiggled in tighter, his top leg swinging forward just slightly in invitation. Karl's breath hitched in his chest at the thought of being inside that tight ass. "Christ, we don't have any supplies."

"No, yeah, we do. Hang on." Chris rolled forward and groped along the floor by the side of the bed, sweeping his hand back and forth. "It's here, somewhere. Thank me for being a Boy Scout." He grunted and fumbled with something out of Karl's sight and then a tube of lube came sailing past him to land on the bed behind him, Chris rolling back into his arms at the same time with a condom package in his hand, tearing it open as he went.

Karl leaned back far enough to allow Chris to roll the condom on him and then wasted no time in using the lube to slick himself up, before spreading the excess around the tight pucker of Chris' hole. He spent some time just massaging the tight ring, getting it to relax and loosen up a little. No fingers this morning, it was going to be slow, anyway. Using his left hand as a guide he slowly pressed just the head of his cock into Chris' ass. A hitch in the breathing of the other man had him tonguing the back of his neck as he remained still, just letting him get used to the feel of his cock barely inside. He could feel the ring of muscle relax as Chris started pressing his hips backwards trying to worm Karl's cock deeper into him.

"Karl, c'mon." The voice was clearly a breathy whine. Karl smiled against the back of the neck in front of him.

"Hang on, then." Karl curled his arm around Chris' neck and grasped him by the hip as he pulled Chris' ass back onto his cock with one forceful push.

"Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Again." Karl started fucking into Chris steadily, forward and back, taking his time, but making each stroke a long, slow glide ending with a heavy tug on Chris' hip that left him with his balls pressed tight to that muscular ass. A steady stream of ughughugh was coming out of Chris' mouth. A hand came up and started stroking his hair again and Karl bit lightly into the muscled neck before him, holding him in place like a stallion mounting a mare.

Sliding the hand on Chris' hip forward, Karl pressed his fingers into the mound of Chris' pubis, not touching his cock at all, just massaging the fleshy mound above and to the sides. As Chris was caught between the cock fucking into him and the massaging hand pressing him backward, he started shifting his hips erratically, wanting to be both places at the same time and trying to get Karl to actually touch his cock. "Karl, you fucking tease!"

Karl chuckled, but gave in to the unspoken demand and wrapped his hand around Chris' cock. "This what you want? Thought you were an English lit major, where's all your fine fucking words now?" Chris was panting by now, as was Karl. The room had started to heat up and the skin of their back and chest were both slick with sweat.

"You want fucking poetry, you fucking got it." Chris wrapped his hand around Karl's where it was stroking his dick and as he started to recite, he forced Karl's hand to match the tempo of the poem.

Fuck the birds fuck the bees,  
fuck the flowers and fuck the trees.  
Fuck the sunset fuck the moon,  
fuck the stars that make lovers swoon.  
Fuck the snowdrops and gentle snow,  
fuck the summer with its coloured rainbow.  
Fuck the winter and fuck the spring,  
fuck the colours the seasons bring.  
Fuck soothing rivers and the deep blue sea,  
fuck cuddly dolphins that frolic with glee.  
Fuck thems who wrote lines whom makes literary   
fucks very deeply darkly pretty well mad.  
They’re probably maybe not intellectuals   
whom is probably not really all that very bad.  
Fuck arsehole fucks that use forsooth,  
fuck the poets who are uncouth.  
Fuck the poets with a resonant drawl,  
fuck the ones who creep and crawl.  
Fuck the poets that do not like rhyme,  
fuck the poets who are sublime.  
Fuck the poets of posthumous fame,  
fuck all the poetry that you could name.  
Fuck it all, fuck the farce  
and if you don’t like this book  
. . . you can stick it up your arse!

Karl really wasn't in the mood to laugh, but he couldn't help it. Far from killing the mood, he found himself picking up the rhythm of the poem in his hips to reinforce the motion of their combined hands. He didn't know how Chris was even managing to keep spouting the puerile rant, but he guessed it came from all the time spent memorizing lines of plays, poetry, prose and cereal box labels. It was just, Christ, but he needed to come.

"I think I've stuck it up your arse enough for one morning. You going to come for me, Chris?"

"Fuck, yeah."

"Now?"

"Yes!" And with a gasping sob, he stilled his hand over Karl's and came into the sheets. Karl snapped his hips into Chris two more times before he, too, shot his load with a muffled cry against Chris' neck.

They lie there, quiescent, for a number of minutes recovering their breath. Karl did the necessary to dispose of the condom. He was almost ready to drift off again when Chris spoke.

"Hey, Karl. Just so you know. The spider web is gone."

Karl rolled back onto his side, so he was curved around Chris, and peeped over his shoulder. Sure enough, the cobweb in the corner was no more.

"Huh. When did you do that?" He laid a quick kiss on Chris' shoulder. "Thank you, by the way."

"Hold the thought, dude. I think I did it when I was groping for the lube."

"Bloody hell!" Karl leaped up off the bed, pointed a finger at Chris and huffed. "You, you…" Turning his back on Chris, he stomped into the bathroom, the sound of Chris' laughter following him. He turned the taps on as viciously as he could muttering about wankers and disgusting perverts.

Chris lie back on the mattress with his hands behind his head and smiled at the ceiling. Moving in together was definitely going to be an adventure and this one had sure started out with a bang.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem is "fuck poetry" by Rab Dagliesh


End file.
